Time spent alone in the Underlayer was like being placed in some sort of stasis. Coop felt as though reality had broken as he landed on the same dirt plain over and over. Each massive mistjump failed to break him out of the illusion. No matter how hard he threw his spear, fully incorporating all of his ridiculous Strength while shifting the rest of his bonus stats with Mindbender, he ended up in the same place. Everytime he landed, he was vaguely surprised he didn’t see his own footprints somewhere in the dirt.
“Like running on a treadmill.” He muttered to himself as he waited for his spear to transform into a tiny speck beyond the horizon before he teleported forward, yet again. If it wasn’t for the occasional stone pillar acting as an unmistakable landmark he really would have begun to question the influence of ley lines on his travel skill.
On his way north from the four freshly claimed control points around Empress City, he crossed paths with another three of the giant uneroded rock columns. Each was more or less the same, though they varied in their exact position within the Underlayer’s caverns. Thankfully, there was enough variance in their relative locations to confirm that he wasn’t visiting the same pillar repeatedly. None of them were exactly centered, though Coop was beginning to believe their approximate spots in the underground had more to do with the geography on the surface of the planet than any intelligent design on the part of mana.
The enormous columns almost seemed to be the demarcations for peaks within the Underlayer. The points that were closest to the surface were occupied by giant guideposts, but they weren’t necessarily for a traveler like him. Instead, a small portion of the mana that flowed through the ley lines was guided up toward the surface at what must have been the most convenient locations.
Based on the distance he traveled, he suspected that the last of the pillars that crossed his path would link to the bottom of Bobby Jon’s missile silo. If Coop hadn’t taken it as a sign that he was close to Neptune’s Bridge, he would have stopped to pay a visit to the Swamp Lord’s home base and get an update on the efforts to take the Everglades. The monotony and loneliness of the Underlayer was already starting to eat away at him, so sharing a beer with the alligator wrestler and catching up with the petting zoo would have been a welcome diversion.
Of course, what he really wanted was to kill more monsters, so he refrained from delaying his arrival to the next subordinate settlement even for a bit of relaxation. Though it wasn’t his settlement on the line anymore, for many others, it was, and he was taking his presumed role more seriously than ever.
If Coop didn’t stretch his coverage, even people outside of shard territory, like Bobby Jon, would have a much harder time in the future. They would have to deal with potential Fallen Zones forming all across the planet, giving the Primal Constructs the footholds that they needed to reestablish themselves as an existential threat to the future of humanity. Coop thought there were already enough of those to go around.
When he landed, sending a splash of dirt in all directions, and finally spotted Primal Constructs in the distance, he was genuinely relieved. It felt like he was escaping a glitch in reality. He took a deep breath and stretched his neck, tilting his head from side to side in an effort to relieve the build up of anxiety he felt between his shoulder blades. As he got himself back into fighting shape, he observed his target, happy to get some more action.
The Underlayer was a strange place. He was simultaneously covering an unbelievable amount of ground without it being nearly enough. Rather than having an issue with distances, he knew his mind was playing tricks on him with respect to time. It was only the first real day of the event, despite feeling like ages, and all of the travel was making him feel wistful towards the memories of unending waves of monsters.
“Back in my day, the monsters came to me.” He joked, from less than a quarter of a mile away from an army of targets.
Ahead, four fortresses were positioned in much closer proximity than either of the previous examples he had already witnessed. Three were aligned in a row, while one was positioned behind the central structure, like a three-man offensive line protecting a quarterback.
The invaders stuck out like a sore thumb against the monotonous backdrop of dirt. The monotonous scenery continued in all directions with nothing else of note to distract from their metal surfaces. Thanks to the consistently dark landscape and steady illumination, the Primal Constructs stood out enough that they would be obvious from miles and miles away. If that wasn’t enough, the control points emitted a subtle spotlight of red light that extended all the way to the ceiling of the tunnels, indicating that they were controlled by the aliens.
Battalions of Primal Constructs were positioned in orderly rows in front of the forts, with one Field Boss representing each of the three forward structures, all on the opposite side of the metallic walls from where Coop stood. They were facing away from him, looking in what Coop believed was north, assuming he hadn’t somehow been turned around during his travels. Unfortunately, the route could have twisted in subtle ways such that he didn’t notice, thanks to the extreme scale.
Coop ran his fingers through his hair while chewing on the inside of his cheek as he tried to make sense of the patterns that were emerging among the invaders. Empress City and Ghost Reef, both with populations less than 100,000, had a single Field Boss each. Neptune’s Bridge, with a population over 300,000 had three Field Bosses.
The actual Constructs intending to claim Neptune’s Bridge were too numerous to count at a glance, but Ghost Reef had exactly 10,000 total and Empress City had 20,000. He guessed Neptune’s Bridge was facing close to triple the Primal Constructs when compared to Empress City which would at least match their relative populations.
He shrugged, content with some quick math to estimate that for every 100,000 human residents, the Primal Constructs were allowed one Field Boss and 20,000 soldiers. Whether or not that was a rule, or something that only applied to settlements small enough to only have an x1 Challenge Assessment, he couldn’t know for sure without more data, but he would figure it out over time. At least it gave him a sense of the challenges to come.
Though the forts ahead of him were in the middle of nowhere, he knew for sure that all four would be positioned at the end of the southern entrance of Neptune’s Bridge. The north of the settlement was already a confirmed stronghold for the Primal Constructs, and with the Underlayer Event, the invaders would seek to finish the entrapment of the beleaguered city.
“Not this time.” Coop established, swapping his spear for a different ethereal weapon before he engaged the invaders, completely changing his usual approach.
The Primal Constructs were apparently unconcerned with their flank, probably more aware of the chasms that connected to the surface than he was, though he was happy to use their experience to triangulate his own position. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t expect anyone to be as far ‘offsides’ as he was, so they were momentarily unaware of the threat he represented to their blindspot.
It seemed as though the invaders had positioned themselves entirely based on where they would end up on the surface, with no regard for particular strategies within the Underlayer. Coop thought that was probably a mistake on their part.
Rather than simply mistjump into combat, taking advantage of the element of surprise, and claiming as much momentum as he could, he paused, gripping the ethereal trident that had replaced the spear with both hands. He had already concluded that his standard tactics weren’t sufficient for broader coverage, so he was trying something completely different, no matter how uncomfortable it made him. While it ran counter to his more natural inclinations, it was time for some tactical experimentation.
Coop took another deep breath before letting the stale air slowly escape his nostrils, and for the first time as a Mistwalker, he cast Inheritance of the Mists. What had previously been his final, desperation ability would be replacing his opener this time.
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He had summoned his trident with the idea of connecting with an entity appropriate for the nautical settlement named after a Roman God. Maybe Neptune himself would grant him the strength to sweep the Primal Constructs from the planet. Coop would take what he could get, but imagining the angry ocean rising up against his foes was a nice thought that led to a greedy smirk already forming on his face.
Before the possession took root, Coop had a moment of clarity that wiped his expression clean, feeling the pure mana rush through his being. The experience was completely unlike any of the times he had cast the spell before, but he hadn’t done anything incorrectly. This was just what it meant to actually be a Mistwalker. He could subtly sense the thousands upon thousands of potential sponsors among the mists, the collective capacity of humanity, some nearer and some more distant based on their… willingness? Compatibility? Maybe the appropriateness of their presence?
Existing among the full breadth of power was dizzying. It made the attention of the Deep Dweller while he was in the Yucatan seem like a minor incidental spectacle, a tiny fraction of the potential hidden within Earth. For a moment, Coop commiserated with mana. A glimpse was enough to conclude that the Eradication Protocol made complete sense. Humans were dangerous. Combined with mana, they were a lit fuse. It was almost fortunate that they had only ever been a danger to themselves before.
However, there was no going back. They were present now. Whether the galactic community received a benevolent humanity or a belligerent one was uncertain, but it wasn’t really up to him. Coop was only sure that he wouldn’t let his friends suffer, whether they were human, animal, or alien, and he was open to making more friends.
Coop inherently understood that he could barely control even a miniscule fraction of what was available in the mists. He had to humbly take only what was reasonable, but it was like trying to make a decision in a dream. If he forced the issue, he would wake up. He didn’t really have control so much as he merely had awareness. Still, he wasn’t just waiting for the first willing guide to take him by the scruff of the neck and show him what real power was. He had become more shepherd than sheep with the evolution of his skills.
What did he want from Inheritance? That was easy. He wanted to brush the Constructs aside, saving Neptune’s Bridge before he moved on to the next settlement. He didn’t have the leisure of steady combat. There were more and more challenges awaiting him all across the planet.
Coop’s spirit was swallowed by mana as time slowed. His perception stretched and the avalanche within the Underlayer transformed into a spectral drift, sensed only by him, as if to confirm that mana was universal. It swept through the cavern and Coop shifted the trident to one hand as he spread his arms, seeking to embrace the mists simply because it felt right.
The mists that swept across the landscape, blasting into him like an ethereal headwind, thickened until they were on the verge of condensing into a shower of water droplets, collapsing throughout the Underlayer. The avalanche transformed into the bubbling froth at the edge of a curling wave, all around his position, and Coop, the defender of the Lighthouse’s settlements, stood defiantly on the precipice of the furious water. All around him, roiling waves churned with agitation, crashing against invisible obstacles adjacent to his position, as they underwent a conversion from pure mana to his apparition’s power, mirroring his own anticipation of violence.
This time, Coop didn’t feel like he would explode as the energy empowered him. The Mistwalker was at home, reveling in the strength of the spirit world, formed by all the records of the world.
The Primal Constructs had come for the wrong planet, and Coop had every intention of showing them every possible way that their planetary sponsorship was a poor investment. He could sense that the apparition was on board with his stated purpose. A violent eviction would take place.
Coop closed his eyes, feeling the mists converge into an imaginary ocean spray on a warm breeze. Half of his mana was reserved, expelled into the froth, and the buffs and debuffs were settled, less detrimental than ever. When he opened his eyes, they were streaming with sapphire energy. A surge of power coursed through him and he clenched his jaw, slamming the butt of the trident into the dirt with titanic authority. The muffled thump sent a pulse of energy that crossed the dirt plains, finally alerting the Primal Constructs of their opponent as he finished powering up.
The Apparition of the Azure Colossus rose from the mana pooling around Coop’s feet, growing taller and taller until it was standing protectively behind Coop. The muscular titan of ocean-stained bronze had his arms crossed and head tilted back, curling hair carved down his back, matching a thick beard. From the waist down the apparition faded into nothingness, using Coop as its anchor in the real world.
“...Yes…” It bellowed in Coop’s mind, mouth unmoving while speaking with exaggerated thickness that drove any extraneous thoughts away. “...Agreed.” The deep voice concluded, letting the simple statement echo in the Champion’s skull. The invaders would be expelled.
Coop raised his empty left hand, instinctively applying the first skill that had been granted to him, and he poured all of the remaining resources of his enormous mana pool into activating it. This strategy eschewed the idea of holding back anything in reserve and he fully intended to follow through. There was no room for any inhibitions.
A monstrous wave rose from the shimmering dirt at his sides, this time fully realized and visible to the shifting Primal Constructs. The possession had only taken fractions of a second, and the invaders were reacting with the experience of elite soldiers within the galactic community after being pummeled with the pulse of power, but Coop would still have the first strike.
The three Field Bosses were the first to step forward, recognizing the challenge, and Coop noted their auras, nearly identical as they were, ignoring the Elites as they struggled to reorganize their parties.
[Field Boss: Ancient Vanguard (Level 170)]
[Zannoris the Reaper of Purpose (Strength)]
[Manifestation of the Primal Constructs]
[Field Boss: Ancient Vanguard (Level 170)]
[Zaphiel the Harvester of Hope (Strength)]
[Manifestation of the Primal Constructs]
[Field Boss: Ancient Vanguard (Level 170)]
[Zororin the Collector of Convictions (Strength)]
[Manifestation of the Primal Constructs]
The Primal Construct variant that attempted to claim the Everglades was well-represented in the Underlayer, but Coop was unimpressed. He scowled at the enemies while they braced themselves, looking down his nose like a mirror image of the Colossus at his back. The disdain was thick.
As the aggressive wave that grew from the dirt rushed forward, it refused to break, instead transforming itself. The foaming curl took the form of charging cavalry, frothing at the mouth; countless horses chased by a wall of water. When the lead stallions collided with the Field Bosses, the monsters collapsed like they had been struck by a train while others galloped past. The giant ant monsters were trampled before being engulfed by the trailing wave, like flowing chariots running down hapless soldiers. The mangled limbs of the Field Bosses crushed the smaller Elites, and any attempts at personal protection collapsed beneath the inundation.
Coop followed in the wake of the wave, walking casually with the Apparition of the Azure Colossus matching his movements exactly, like a massive dimensional projection. Coop crossed through hundreds of yards of soaking dirt, bare chested and barefooted, with an absolutely enormous adamantine trident in the grip of both hands.
He picked up his speed, lifting the three-pronged spear over his shoulder, before leaping into the chaos. The celestial weapon was over seven feet long, barbed with pearlescent seashell tips that were shaped like individual spears, wielded by depictions of sea horses wreathed in seaweed, all thrusting forward. It took all of his expertise to prove he was worthy of wielding the weapon, but his movements were empowered by the multiplicative effect of the possession.
Coop demolished the remaining Constructs, using the absurd weapon to pierce their wrecked forms as the survivors struggled to regain their positions. The Azure Colossus used his own impossibly immense trident to crush the auras of the monsters, combining ethereal attacks with physical lacerations as the Apparition and Mistwalker united their efforts.
The cleanup of the stragglers that weren’t completely crushed by the horse wave was short, and Coop was released by the possession with no problems as soon as the threat was contained. He was left standing among the four control points, in the completely dry dirt, with all of the enemies and their forts dissipated as if nothing had happened at all, though the dirt had been sculpted with the ripples of mysteriously absent waves.
“Damn.” Coop uttered in disbelief, struggling to catch his breath as he fell to his hands and knees.
The scent of salt lingered in the stagnant air, the only remnant of the mana that had been spent. He was exhausted, completely lacking his own mana, but he couldn’t find any reason to be disappointed in the final result.
“That was pretty much exactly what I was hoping for.” He concluded, unceremoniously planting his butt in the dirt in the center of the first control point, on the verge of collapse. He had some time to recover before he could move on anyway. He wished he could shoot the breeze with his friends again while he waited.